The World was Built for Two
by A Hopeful Voice
Summary: (only worth living if somebody is loving you.) The journey it takes Rose Tyler and the Doctor to find each other again.
1. Part I

**This has been in progress for months, and I've finally decided to finish it. I'm still not done, but Part II of III will be up soon. The title comes from Lana Del Ray's song 'Video Games'.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or any of the songs quoted.**

**Enjoy, and please review.**

* * *

**The World was Built for Two  
**_(only worth living if somebody is loving you)_

* * *

Because no words wrench at his heartstrings like _bad wolf_.

* * *

_[Look down, the ground below is crumbling. Look up, the stars are all exploding. -Kate Miller-Heidke]_

Rose genuinely believes she's going to be sick. Her fingers grasp at the lever, but she cannot get a firm enough grip. The beast was right; the valiant child would die in battle so very soon. Her palms were already sweating, and combined with the slickness of the cold metal and the wind rushing past her at what seems like a million miles an hour, Rose knows that she will fall.

She struggles, fights, determined not to die, because dying means leaving _him_ and she could never do that. It's hard enough knowing that he will never be able to tell her how he really feels (because Time Lords are stupid like that), but she promised him forever.

Forever suddenly condensed into seconds.

One hand slips.

Hurricane force winds make it hard for Rose to keep her eyes open, but she keeps her gaze set on the Doctor. He is shouting, reaching for her as best he can without letting go himself. Whether of sadness or from the harsh wind, tears sting Rose's eyes and she knows that she will not be able to hold on much longer.

She is left with a few fingers, and then those are gone, too.

Rose always loved the feeling of flying, but not like this.

The Doctor screams on her name and she cries for him, but she can't do anything but look into his eyes and pray that the end will be quick. Living eternally in the nothingness of the Void never appealed to her.

And then she is safe in the arms of her father (well, not really-the one from Pete's World). Rose looks back to the Doctor once more, and it breaks her heart. He fades from view in a single blink, and then she is in a room that looks exactly the same, but is missing the one thing that keeps her strong: _him_.

Jackie rushes forward to take Rose into her arms, but Rose pushes her mother away, turning back to the blank white wall. She has never known such pain in her life as she slams her fists on that wall, begging Pete and Mickey and Jake and her mother to open the walls of the universe and _take her back_.

If she beats her hands against the wall so that the bones break, will it dull the crippling ache in her heart?

She'll never be whole again, not when the man she loves more than life itself is stuck in a different universe. This was worse than the worst possible breakup imaginable, because this was beyond Rose's wildest nightmares.

It isn't until she finally collapses against the wall, sinking onto her knees, whimpering to herself that her family collects her as gently as possible and ushers her from Torchwood. This world is hell, and Rose wants no part of it.

She doesn't leave her room for weeks, sleeps for hours of the day because she can only handle the darkness.

Her world has ended, and she'll find no place in this new one-a world without _him_.

* * *

_[To think I might not see those eyes makes it so hard not to cry; And as we say our long goodbye, I nearly do._ _-Snow Patrol]_

A biting wind nips at Rose's cheeks as she listens to the waves crash on the beach. She can hear Jackie and Pete complaining and Mickey trying to shut them up. They all think she's crazy for hearing voices and leading them all to Norway (_Norway_, for God's sake), but only Mickey is polite enough to realize that they aren't helping her cope.

It has been the longest three months of her life, and Rose would just give up if she thought it would help. Staring out at the bitter ocean, Rose thinks of Woman Wept and smiles at the memories of her and her first Doctor, and of Jack and Nancy and Cathica. Jealousy nips at her stomach as she thinks of Reinette, Lynda with a Y, and Sarah Jane, which, in turn, fills her with guilt and sadness. She'll never be able to go to Sarah Jane for comfort.

Something catches her eye, so she turns and he's there. But not really, because she can see right through him and why should he tear apart the universes for her when he won't even say how he really feels?

"Where are you?" Rose asks without even a greeting. They don't need one. This will be hard enough without having to say hello. Every hello has a goodbye.

He sounds sad as he says, "Inside the TARDIS," but only Rose would know that because she knows him better than anyone else. Matter-of-factly, he explains, "There's one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a supernova. I'm burning up a sun, just to say goodbye."

That damn word. But Rose thinks that might be the romantic thing she's ever heard, much less dreamed of, and especially from him.

"You look like a ghost," she says sadly.

"Hold on," his ghost says, then raises his sonic screwdriver to point at an invisible thing which must be the TARDIS console. The Doctor becomes solid and Rose takes a step forward.

She reaches her hand toward his face, "Can I-?"

The Doctor stops her. "I'm still just an image," he says. "No touch."

Rose lowers her arm. "Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."

It's selfish, but Rose can't help it. "So?" She gives a bitter laugh, as if that would make her sound more easily forgiven.

He brushes it off, just like she thought he would. The Doctor was always able to overlook her faults for her better qualities. "Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"

"We're in Norway."

He nods, as if he planned the whole thing. "Norway. Right."

Rose looks around the beach to keep from crying. She knows she won't see him again after this, and it breaks her heart more than she wants to admit. "About fifty miles out of Bergen. It's called Darlig Ulv Stranden."

Concern crosses the Doctor's face. "Dalek?"

"Darlig," Rose corrects. If there were Daleks in this universe, he would surely rip the walls of the universe apart. It's funny; he would do anything to destroy his enemy, but wouldn't do anything to be with the woman he-well, whatever he felt for her. "It's Norwegian for 'bad'. This translates as Bad Wolf Bay," Rose laughs, rolling her eyes. If anything, those words would follow her, no matter what universe she was in. More softly, "How long have we got?"

His face is difficult to read, even for Rose Tyler, when he says, "About two minutes."

She feels tears begin to prickle at her eyes, and gives a quick laugh that feels forced. "I can hardly think of what to say."

The Doctor looks behind her and forces a neutral expression on his face. "You've still got Mister Mickey, then?"

Rose wants nothing more than to feel his arms around her and press her face against his chest, smelling what she can't put a name to, only calling it the Doctor's scent. His hands must feel so empty. Hers do. "There's five of us now," she says, determined to make these two minutes worth it. "Mum, dad, Mickey, and the baby."

Shock settles on his face, followed by betrayal, concern, and confusion. Maybe even a glimmer of hope. "You're not...?"

Rose laughs, glad she was able to pull that over his head. "No, it's mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way." And maybe that's not a bad thing.

"What about you?" he asks. "Are you-"

She interrupts him, attempting to play one more joke on him. He's so easy to trick, despite how clever he thinks he is. "Yeah, I'm back working in the shop."

He looks a little surprised, but hides it well. "Oh, good for you."

"Shut up," she laughs and smiles, but it doesn't feel right. "No, I'm not. There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens."

The Doctor smiles at her, and Rose thinks she might just melt because of how he warms her soul. "Rose Tyler," he says proudly, "Defender of the Earth." He looks around the beach, and Rose wonders if he just isn't able to meet her eyes. As cruel as it is, she hopes that his hearts are shredded just as badly as hers. Then she thinks of the things he's said, the promises he's made, and knows that he's hurting the same, if not worse, than her. "You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day, and you've gone missing. You're on the list of the dead. Here you are, living a life day after day. The one adventure I can never have."

That rips her to pieces, because it proves that yes, he does feel exactly the same way.

She feels like she's choking as she asks, "Am I ever gonna see you again?"

"You can't," he says softly, and Rose thinks he might cry.

"What're you going to do?"

He looks around him. "Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords."

"All on your own?" Rose asks, the tears falling now. He nods and she knows that this is her only chance to tell him-she'll never see him again. "I-" she begins, but cannot say what is in her heart because it's too painful. But it needs saying, so she cries, "I...I love you."

The Doctor looks torn, and Rose prays that he will say it back. "Quite right, too," he does say, and she nods, knowing she's made a fool of herself, but it doesn't matter. She doesn't care. "And I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it..." She looks into his eyes and knows what's coming. "Rose Tyler-"

But their time is up, and the universes drift apart.

* * *

_[Explosions on the day you wake up needing somebody and you've learned it's okay to be afraid, but it will never be the same._ _-Ellie Goulding]_

They have to sedate her upon her return to London. After days of riding across Europe in a Discovery, Rose's family would have thought she could cope with being home, being here in this universe. But it isn't until she saw her family's mansion that she lost it. She screams and cries, begging with her family to take her back-whether to Darlig Ulv Stranden or to her home universe, they don't know.

The servants phone Torchwood while Pete and Mickey wrestle Rose from the car, Jackie holding Rose's hand to keep her grounded (it doesn't seem to be working). Minutes later, Torchwood representatives arrive with a powerful soporific that will let her rest. The family will never trust anyone outside of Torchwood (who would believe that trans-universal travel possible?), so the advanced technology is a blessing for once.

Once Rose is out cold, Pete and Mickey have a much easier time carrying her petite girl up to her room. Jackie changes Rose's clothes and tucks her daughter into bed. She settles into a chair next to Rose's bed, afraid to leave her daughter's side.

Jackie knows heartache. If it weren't for Rose, Jackie doesn't know what she would have done when Pete (her _first_ Pete, that is) died. Yes, she thought he was an idiot, and yes, she always thought he had a younger blonde on the side, but she loved him more than anything. She wouldn't have married him otherwise.

For the first time, Jackie wishes she hadn't been so hard on the Doctor. He always did his best to protect Rose, even sacrificing himself to keep her safe. Her daughter loved that damn alien, and Jackie wouldn't have it any other way.

She brushes Rose's hair with her fingers, and mentally notes to schedule an appointment for Rose to have her roots touched up. Sinking into normalcy will help Rose move on. This will be so much harder than Jimmy Stone, harder than that year when Rose went missing.

Because her baby's heart is broken and there's no one in the universe who can fix her. Jackie entertains the thought that maybe this universe has a Doctor who could save Rose, but knows that he would have told them if that were possible.

A tear falls down Jackie's cheek. "Damn you," she whispers, praying that the Doctor will hear, knowing that's impossible.

Time drags incredibly slowly, but eventually the curtains gain a yellow tinge, growing brighter every second. Twelve hours after they've been home, Mickey comes into Rose's room with a cup of tea for Jackie. "I'll stay with 'er," he tells the woman who once-upon-a-time could have been his mother-in-law. "Go get some sleep."

Jackie shakes her head, petting Rose's hand. "I don't wanna leave 'er. She needs me."

Mickey can't argue with that, so he sits down on the floor and leans up against the wall. He still loves Rose, always will. He knows that she doesn't deserve him (at least, that's what she would say), but that doesn't matter. They've been best mates since they were kids, and if she ever needed anything, he would be there.

Rose gradually begins to stir, and groggily mumbles, "Wha'd I miss?" But then she sees her mum's caked mascara and feels her own muscles, and she knows. It doesn't take long before she curls into herself, crying into her pillow. Jackie moves next to her daughter and rubs her back. Mickey moves to Jackie's chair and drinks his tea in silence.

Pete eventually comes in, and stands watchfully in the corner. He doesn't know Rose as well as he would like, but she is his adopted daughter, and he will always be there for his baby girl, no matter how big she is or how little she needs him.

Jackie says soothing things to Rose, and an eternity passes before Rose's violent, wracking sobs, turn into pained moans. "I love him, Mum," Rose gasps, clutching at her mother's shirt.

Her arms are wrapped tightly around her daughter, but Jackie soothes Rose. "I know, sweetheart. He knows, too."

"An' I'm never gonna see 'im again," she whines, and a new round of weeping ensues. "I'm never gonna see 'im again."

Hours turn into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, and then one sunny morning, Rose walks downstairs without being coaxed into it. She wears proper clothes, her face is made up like it used to be, and her hair has been tamed. Her family looks on in surprise.

She gives no smile, but simply says, "It's time." Rose rides with Pete and Mickey to work at Torchwood, and begins her new life. The missions aren't as dangerous, the aliens quite as exciting, but it's better than working in a shop, and better than wallowing in her grief at home.

After some time, Rose cracks a smile or laughs at a joke. She starts making friends and doesn't always need the excuse of work to leave the house. Never will she go on a date (her heart isn't quite ready for that yet), but it's a start.

She breaks down doors, brings dangerous aliens into custody, interrogates galactic thugs, all before lunch. Life is sometimes exciting, and with time, she doesn't always need to cry herself to sleep. Rose Tyler becomes Torchwood's best agent, not to mention a celebrity in the tabloids for being the Vitex heiress. She throws herself into work, never stopping to think about the life she left behind or the people she's lost.

And when the company asks for volunteers to research the cracks in the universe, Rose is the first to sign up.

* * *

_[I know you have felt much more love than you've shown, and I'm on my knees and the water creeps to my chest. -Mumford and Sons]_

He awakens to the sound of the computer saying, "Auto-destruct in two minutes." He looks around to place himself, but he doesn't understand. Professor River Song is sitting looking at a screen and at her wrist and doing things with wires that he struggles to comprehend. Why could she feel the need to attack him and render him unconscious?

The Doctor had been unconscious for approximately seven minutes, but his mind was still lacking clarity. He moves to stand, but is stopped by cold metal on his wrist. He looks down at the handcuffs and quickly says, "Oh, no, no, no, no. Come on, what are you doing? That's my job!" He shouts at River, and struggles against his restraint.

She looks at him with a slightly amused look in her eyes. "Oh, and I'm not allowed to have a career, I suppose?"

He looks between her and the handcuffs. "Why am I handcuffed? Why do you even have handcuffs?"

Professor Song grins at him, "Spoilers."

He is not laughing, and this situation is not funny. "This is not a joke! Stop this now. This is going to kill you! I'd have a chance, you don't have any."

She turns fierce rather quickly and snaps, "You wouldn't have a chance, and neither do I. I'm timing it for the end of the countdown. There'll be a blip in the command flow. That way it should improve our chances of a cleaner download."

Professor River Song is smart; he'll give her that. She's probably too smart for her own good, but they don't have the time to argue about it. He doesn't know who she is yet, and she is about to sacrifice herself for him. The Doctor will _not_ let that happen. "River, please," he begs, "no."

She looks at him, sadness overcoming her features that had been so jovial earlier. "Funny thing is," she begins, her eyes revealing the betrayal she feels, "this means you've always known how I was going to die. All the time we've been together, you knew I was coming here. The last time I saw you, the real you, the _future_ you, I mean, you turned up on my doorstep with a new haircut and a suit. You took me to Darillium to see the Singing Towers. What a night that was. The Towers sang, and you cried."

"Auto-destruct in one minute."

"You wouldn't tell me why, but I suppose you knew it was time. My time. Time to come to the Library. You even gave me your screwdriver. That should have been a clue." The Doctor looks around so he won't have to see the tears in her eyes. He feels terrible because there is no way that time can be rewritten like this, not in a just way. One day, he will tell her his greatest secret, and then betray her, all because it had already happened. His wandering eyes spy the two screwdrivers and her TARDIS blue diary sitting just out of reach, but he tries anyway. Sadly, she finishes, "There's nothing you can do."

He presses, "You can let me do this."

"If you die here, it'll mean I've never met you."

"Time can be rewritten!" he says, making himself believe it so that she will. Nobody else had to die today.

She became upset instantly, "Not those times. Not one line. Don't you dare. It's okay, it's okay. It's not over for you. You'll see me again. You've got all that to come. You and me, time and space. _You watch us run_."

But he needs answers, even if she won't give in. There's no time, and it's dangerous to know his own future, but there are too many loose ends, too many things he is impatient to know. "River, you know my name." (_"Auto-destruct in ten-"_) "You whispered my name in my ear." (_"-nine, eight, seven-"_) "There's only one reason I would ever tell anyone my name. There's only one time I could."

She gives him a sad smile as she lifts the two cables. "Hush, now." (_"-four, three-"_) "Spoilers," she whispers, and it tears at his hearts even though he doesn't know who she is. (_"-two, one-"_)

River joins the two power cables, and the Doctor raises his free hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light. When it is safe to see, River's body is inanimate.

As he runs through the room on his way to save River like CAL saved 4,022 people, he doesn't notice that her body is gone. Even if he did, he wouldn't know what to make of it.

* * *

_[Here's your ticket, welcome to the tombs. -Regina Spektor]_

The news is disconcerting at first, and then it just seems like another day on the job. And then it grows unnerving again. How are cracks in time and space even possible? Three months ago, the universe was threatened by gaps in the fabric of reality, but this is different, more serious, more frightening.

And Rose Tyler is frightened.

She thought she had been frightened that first time she was ever kissed. It seemed to loom over her head the entire time she was sitting in the circle during a game of 'Truth or Dare'. It was always said that the moment leading up to the kiss was more exciting than the actual kiss. Now she couldn't care less.

She thought she had been frightened that first time she ever stumbled into bed with a boy. She was sixteen, Jimmy had been nineteen. It hurt, and hadn't been very good for her, but it was a milestone in her life. Once it was over, Rose didn't feel any different, except maybe disappointed and embarrassed that she had been afraid.

She thought she had been frightened that first time she came face to face with a Dalek. Her mother wouldn't even know what happened to her. The Doctor hated the Daleks so much, that Rose couldn't help but hate it, too. But it had her DNA, _knew_ her. It changed, and so had she.

She thought she had been scared when she was left in this universe for the first time. Even the second time she had been afraid, though she wasn't alone. She had been given the other Doctor, but it still was not the same. She loved him, but he wasn't _him_.

Now _this_ was truly terrifying.

Rose stands petrified, staring at the jagged crack in the wall like it is the blue eyestalk of her first Dalek. Other Torchwood employees are screaming at her to move back, to get out of the way, but all Rose can see is the Doctor moving closer to the blank wall, trying to study it.

He had explained it to her before, but that was before the crack in Torchwood appeared. The first one had been found in a little girl's bedroom in a small village called Leadworth. It snapped shut before Torchwood could properly examine it, but the Doctor had explained it to her the best he could without having seen it. "A crack in space and time; two pieces that should never have touched, like the tangent line on a circle, but this is touching in more than one place, so more like a Venn Diagram without the overlap. Oh, never mind. You know what I mean," he said, and she laughed.

They were happy together. Living the domestic life without a TARDIS was not as difficult as either had thought it would be. They weren't married, didn't have children, probably couldn't even really be considered a couple, but it didn't matter.

The Doctor steps toward the blinding light, and Rose screams after him. He gets too close, and turns back to face her once more.

A week later, Rose kneels in the grass behind her family's estate house. She claws at the dirt, audibly choking on her tears. Rain falls from the sky, lightly covering the lawn. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and Rose knows Pete will be out here in a minute, struggling to drag her inside so she won't be struck by lightning.

But none of them know her grief. Hell, the _universe_ doesn't know her grief. That crack in time and space swallowed the Doctor up, leaving no memory of him anywhere. He never existed. Rose remembered him, and her mum, Pete, and Mickey remembered him. The only explanation she could think of was that they all knew the real him, the original Doctor.

The rain comes down harder, and Rose screams out. This is the closest they can get to having a real funeral. After all, how can someone be mourned if they never existed?

She loved him.

At work the following week (because if anyone knows suffering, it's Rose Tyler, and she's plenty accustomed to it by now), Rose is pulled into a board meeting regarding the cracks. She spaces out, thinking about the Doctor, wishing he were sitting right there next to her. They always did get a good laugh out of the doodles they would pass back and forth to each other.

Rose accidentally knocks her planner onto the floor, and when she bends to pick it up, she sees an envelope slide out that wasn't hers. The front is labeled with his handwriting. She opens it and reads: _Find him._

Someone-she thinks it's Pete-brings up trying to use one of the cracks that opens up to somewhere else as a sort of portal into another universe. Just like the last time, Rose is the first to volunteer. But this time, she isn't coming back. She'll give them her findings, tell them how to close the cracks, and never look back.

It will be hard to leave her family, but Rose can't stay here. She doesn't belong.

Hefting her rucksack on one shoulder, Rose quickly swallows the two ibuprofen she dug out for her headache. Ever since stepping briefly into the crack's light, Rose had had a consistent migraine. It seemed to be getting progressively worse. She just assumed that it was from being congested due to her crying. It would get better once she was with the Doctor.

Rose looks back once more at her mum and Mickey, and the rest of her family, gives them a quick smile. She steps into the crack, where Prisoner Zero has escaped from.

The crack snaps closed, the headache worsens to the point of breaking. Rose drops to the floor, unconscious from pain.

* * *

_[I take a deep breath every time I pass your door; I know you're there but I can't see you anymore. -Ellie Goulding]_

There was a time when he thought her room had been lost. He hated seeing it, hated passing by it, hated thinking of it, but it had always been there for him. (Not that he needed it to be.) When the TARDIS had had to delete rooms because of House, the Doctor thought he'd lost everything.

It's funny how unimportant something seems until it's gone.

But the TARDIS worked her magic, and _that room_ is safe. It still hurts when he sees it, still hates passing by it, still avoids thinking of it, but it was there, and that was good enough for the Doctor.

The TARDIS uses it to get on his nerves. When she is angry with him, she'll place the plain white door with black scuff marks along the bottom directly across from wherever the Doctor currently is. He hates that, because she loved too, so it isn't just him. It can't be.

After leaving Amy and Rory in their new home with their new car following the minotaur incident, the Doctor feels particularly masochistic. He opened that door _(number eleven)_ and saw his worst fear, his greatest secret, the thing he would never share with anyone.

And when everyone fell back onto their beliefs, the Doctor questioned who he believed in.

Once upon a time, the answer would have been _her_.

But she wasn't in the room, and he hated to think of her, because it made him sad. She was living happily ever after in the other universe with her version of him; they would grow old together-the one adventure he could never have. But he still wanted to believe.

As always when requested, that normal-looking door is there waiting for him. The Doctor hesitates before opening the door, simply staring at it. He is afraid. Finally, even the TARDIS grows impatient, and she gently leans until he is forced to half-stumble forward.

Gripping the doorknob with a clammy palm, the Doctor enters the bedroom of the long gone Rose Tyler.

Everything looks exactly the same as it did that morning when she last was aboard the TARDIS for more than a few minutes. Her clothes are still flung around the room, her shoes lying on the floor. Jewelry is spread out across the top of the dresser, only the pieces she was wearing during the Battle of Canary Wharf absent.

He takes a soft step further into the room, admiring the way she hastily made her bed that morning. Even the stuffed green Transaquypus he got for her on Chlamantheon is sitting up against the headboard. Her bathroom light is on, and when he peers through the door, the Doctor sees her makeup lying across the counter.

The Doctor tries not to linger, for it just makes him sad, and God knows his life is sad enough as it is.

Closing the door gently behind him, the Doctor starts the walk back to the console room. It is about time to go visit his wife.

* * *

_[And all along I believed I would find you, time has brought your heart to me._ _-Christina Perri]_

He hates her sometimes. He truly does. But he has no choice, no other options. The Time Lord has run out of time, and run out of places to run. This is the only ending, a fixed point in time. Even he would never dare to mess with the facts of the universe. So as much as he does not want to, he decides that it is time for him to marry River Song.

Maybe he'll love her in the future, but right now, he has to save the universe.

Angrily, the Doctor stalks to the edge of the pyramid and turns his back to his friends. "Amy," he demands, "uncuff me. Now." With his hands free, he turns back around with some gusto and starts formulating a plan. "Okay, I need a strip of cloth about a foot long. Anything will do-Never mind." With a smile, the Doctor pulls on his bow tie until it comes loose in his hands. "River," he says, offering her one edge, "take one end of this. Wrap it around your hand, and hold it out to me."

"What am I doing?" she asks, but does as he wanted.

"As you're told," the Doctor replies, obviously with more important things on his mind. "Now, we're in the middle of a combat zone, so we'll have to do the quick version. Captain Williams, say 'I consent and gladly give'."

"To what?" Rory asks, looking between the Doctor and Amy.

"Just say it," the Doctor snaps. "Please."

Rory seems flustered, but follows orders. "I consent and gladly give."

"Need you to say it, too," the Doctor tells Amy. "Mother of the bride."

And then things make sense. She rushes to repeat, "I consent and gladly give."

The Doctor pulls River's wrapped hand closer to his, careful for them not to touch until precisely the right moment. "Now River, I'm about to whisper something in your ear, and you have to remember it very, very carefully, and tell no one what I said." He leaned forward and, deliberately staying far enough away so as not to touch, whispers, "Look into my eye."

He pulls back and grins, knowing that she's putting the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind that could rival his for speed. Damn child of the TARDIS.

"I just told you my name," he lies (rule one). "Now, there you go, River Song, Melody Pond. You're the woman who married me. And wife, I have a request. This world is dying and it's my fault, and I can't bear it another day. Please, help me. There isn't another way."

He knows she has understood his plan by now and will consent to anything he wants. River smiles at her husband and raises an eyebrow. Finally, the flirting and innuendo might pay off. "Then you may kiss the bride."

The Doctor takes a step closer and says, "I'll make it a good one."

She smiles, "You better." And then she closes the gap between them.

Their lips meet and time begins to move. Able to touch once more, the Doctor pulls River flush against him and kisses her like he never has before because they would only get married once (well, technically speaking). She responds eagerly, and all too soon time is flashing before the Doctor's eyes and he is on the beach getting shot, in the boat being burned, and so many other moments.

But he is alive, and that is all that matters.

* * *

_[It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope, which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word. -Regina Spektor]_

The Doctor walks quickly through the TARDIS corridors, banging on every door because he isn't sure which will be Amy and Rory's. If the TARDIS is on his side, he'll have woken them by now, but if she's on their side, he might have to knock on every single door three times before finding their room. He gave her a nice meal on the Rift a few days ago, but based on how she reacted to his tweaking earlier...it really came down to how temperamental she was feeling at the moment.

As if only human women have a certain 'time of the month.'

Giggling at his own thoughts, the Doctor is slammed into the corridor wall by the unamused sentient ship. He hisses at her, and knows that it will most likely be another twenty minutes before he finds Amy and Rory. Being mentally linked with your best friend (and worst enemy) was often taxing, though it did have its benefits.

Eventually, his knocking pays off, as he hears a groan from inside the room. The Doctor smiles as he bursts into the room, clapping his hands to illuminate the room. "The Clap On/Clap Off system was the best thing I've ever installed," he jokes, as Rory forces the covers over his head to block out the lights.

Amy squints in the brightness as she props herself up onto her elbows, looking down at the Doctor from her top bunk. "I thought we decided that the bedroom was off-limits. Besides, it's" (she looks at the clock sitting on top of the bookshelf beside their bunk bed) "six in the morning."

Not showing his face, Rory weakly agrees, "You're mad."

"We'll see you in a few hours," Amy says, clapping her hands to put the room back into darkness.

They aren't able to see it, but the Doctor rolls his eyes and claps the lights back on. "I think you'll want to get up."

"Why?" Amy questions without looking.

He smiles. "Because I got a message from your daughter." Amy throws off the covers and deftly climbs down the ladder. She tears the blankets off of Rory, and he moans in protest. "It came on the psychic paper half an hour ago. I would've been here sooner, but the TARDIS was angry with me."

"I'm sure River won't mind if we come see her later," Rory said, trying to pull the covers out of Amy's hands. "Why so early?"

"Because it's urgent, and I want to see my best friend's daughter."

Amy puts her hands on her hips after completely yanking the blankets off of Rory's bed. "Why can't you just call her your wife? Because she is Mrs. Doctor, and I don't think she'll appreciate that you don't seem to care about your marriage to her."

Rory gives in and kicks his feet onto the floor. Clad only in his pants, he self-consciously folds his arms over his chest. Amy rolls her eyes and tosses him his navy blue dressing gown.

"I thought you didn't like being called my mother-in-law, Amy," the Doctor says, knowing that he's already won the argument. She growls and pulls open the bedroom door.

"Give us time to get dressed, and then we'll be out to meet you."

The Doctor smiles as he leaves for the console room. This time, the TARDIS is forgiving, and he only has to walk a few meters before he's in the warmth of the room. Something was going to happen today; he could feel it. River wouldn't be so urgent if it weren't important. He ponders that for a while until Amy and Rory join him. They grab on for support as he throws them in and out of the Vortex.

Once they've landed at their destination (which, to be honest, the Doctor isn't even sure where it is-River has sent them further into the depths of the universe than even the Doctor has traveled), the Doctor sprints to the door and opens it. He can see River standing in the distance with her back to them. She raises her hand without looking and calls, "Hello, sweetie!"

Grumbling as he walks out of his precious ship, the Doctor asks, "How did you know I was here?"

She turns and smiles at him, but it seems a forced thing. "You know how I hate that awful noise. You're going to ruin the brakes, and I don't think that anyone in the universe can quite help you out to fix them."

The Doctor scowls and his in-laws laugh at his apparent frustration. He takes in their surroundings with disdain. Where the hell has River brought them? His mind briefly entertains the question of where she is in their timeline, but by the looks of her face, she's later than he would care to think. It breaks his hearts.

There is nothing he hates more than endings.

So when Amy and Rory embrace their daughter, the Doctor holds on to his hope that their end is not so near. When it is his turn, he pulls River close and whispers in her ear. She smiles, and kisses him on the cheek. River knows him better than anyone, and knows how much he hates their affection to be displayed to the public.

They are on the thin line of sand that separates the cliffs and the seas. Clouds cover any sun or suns that are in the sky, and the chemicals in the air are too similar to Earth's for the Doctor to believe they are anything but. River points to the cliff edge several thousand feet above their heads. "We're on Baratheon VII, and _that_ is why we're here."

Markings are scattered all over the cliffs, the same pattern repeated over and over again. Dread takes over the Doctor's thoughts, but the others don't seem to understand. "The TARDIS isn't translating," Rory says, pointing out the obvious. His ship would never translate Old High Gallifreyan; they know that.

In the past, a message like this would have read _hello, sweetie_, but that is not what this says. "Hang on," Amy says, her mind catching up to the Doctor's, "we've seen this before, haven't we?" She looks to her daughter for reassurance, knowing that River played a part in the last two messages like this they'd received.

River shakes her head, "I didn't do this, that's why I thought it strange. You know I can't really read this language that well, Doctor. What it says doesn't make sense."

The Doctor stares at the cliffs unamused. The universe is playing a practical joke on him and it is unappreciated. He is too old and too sad and has lost too much for this to happen to him. But he knows River is smart, and she knows that something big is about to happen.

He sounds exactly as old as he is when he says, "What you think it says is what it actually says, River."

"And what is that?" Amy asks, but the Doctor can't tear his eyes from the stone. He makes no move to answer, and Amy repeats, "What does it say?"

River is about to answer, but the Doctor jumps the gun and cuts her off with a slicing gesture. He thinks he might be sick, but he doesn't want the words spoken aloud. He can't do this, not again. This message is full of hope, and that's the last thing he wants or needs. It's a joke, and a cruel one at that. He takes a step back, and finally turns away to take long strides toward the TARDIS. "We're leaving here, now. You should never have brought me here, River. This was a terrible idea."

"But what does it mean?" his wife asks, but he thinks she already knows and is entertaining him for continuities' sake. After all, too much information at the wrong time is dangerous.

"What does it say?" Amy demands, dragging her own husband along behind her until they're all standing outside the blue box.

The Doctor is furious, and a storm rages in his hearts, his darkness revealing itself in his eyes. He looks at River for a long moment before his eyes flash up to the stone. A song resounds in his head, and he remembers Daleks and golden light and a kiss to end all time. "Bad Wolf," he says before turning into the TARDIS, barely waiting for the other three to get inside before throwing them all into the Vortex and doing what he does best.

He runs.


	2. Part II

**Here's the second part. Thanks for all the love from the previous part, and please review. Enjoy!**

* * *

Run you clever boy, and remember me.

* * *

_[But tell me now, where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart? -Mumford and Sons]_

River lies in bed, her fingers ghosting lightly across her husband's arm. He is breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and River knows he is angry with her, with the universe, with himself. She feels him in her mind, their connection fading ever so slightly as time passes. They are in her room in the TARDIS, because even after all they've been through, he refuses to allow her into his own room. It hurts, but she knows that she is not the first he's loved, and certainly not the last. Maybe that's part of what she loves about him.

He's had a past longer than she can even imagine, has had children and grandchildren that she can never give him. He has loved and been loved, danced with so many others, overwhelms her in everything that he does.

The Doctor finally opens his eyes and meets hers. He uses his arm resting over her to pull her closer to his own bare body. She kisses him chastely and wishes he would be truthful with her. He is too kind to her and she doesn't deserve it. She lies and she deceives and she breaks his heart so often.

This relationship is so hard, but she loves him so much that it's worth it. But if she wants him to be honest and truthful, she too must be honest and truthful. It hurts, but she finds the strength to ask, "Tell me about her."

There is a slight pause before he inhales, "Which one?"

"Any of them," River says, feeling her heart break because there's more than one that he cares for.

He launches into a tale about his first wife, the woman who stole his hearts back when he had a home planet and a family and friends who understood everything he could ever go through. He might have said her name at some point, but River doubts it and she probably would not have been able to pronounce it anyway. It's hard enough saying his name. But his wife sounds sweet and wonderful, and her death ultimately broke him (she died mid-regeneration, like he was supposed to). He took a special interest in their only son's daughter, Susan, and she was with him when he first stole the TARDIS and ran from Gallifrey.

The second woman he speaks of is human, and still alive, as far as he knows. Sarah Jane Smith traveled with him for a long time, and while he never says he loved her, River knows the truth hiding behind the words not spoken.

Like Sarah Jane, the next woman remains 'just a friend', but River knows better. Sometimes a picture can be illustrated from the holes the Doctor leaves in a story. Romana was his own species, a woman of his own ranking, and she was with him when she regenerated for the first time. The Doctor admits that he never found out what happened to her during the Time War. (River wonders if he hopes she is alive somewhere, but thinks he would know in his mind.)

There is some silence before he proceeds; he is choosing his words carefully. "Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth," he says softly, as if his mind is far, far away. "She saved my life more than once. Destroyed the Daleks, took in the entirety of the Time Vortex, sacrificed herself more than I could have asked, nearly tore apart the universe twice so that I could live. She's alive, in another universe, with her family and a version of my previous self. It was the best I could give her."

And it hurts even more than before, but River has to know. She closes her eyes and brushes her hand across his cheek to rest her fingers in his hair, draping a leg over one of his. Being closer with him physically might alleviate the pain, but she is lying to herself. Loving the Doctor is heartache and difficulty, but worth every second.

"Did you love her?"

The Doctor rolls to his back, untangling her from him. He breathes in and out, and River thinks he won't give her an answer. But his silence is the only answer she needs. Its the shortest description of all women, and his words are so alive and longing that she knows. Does it need saying?

Just as she thinks he will leave her forever for asking, he whispers, "How could I not?"

River turns to her back and stares up at the blank ceiling, taking his hand in hers. The end is coming, but it doesn't have to, not yet. He could love whomever he wanted, and River knows it is not her place to judge. He doesn't have to say that _bad wolf_ is synonymous with _rose tyler_ and that he will always run from those words. He doesn't have to say that the beach frightened him more than anything he'd ever faced, because she knows.

She knows him better than anyone, and knows more than he would tell her because she is a child of the TARDIS, and a child of the TARDIS can find her way through any deadlock seal her husband may put in place in order to find information. She just wanted him to tell her himself, to be honest, and this is the best she will ever get.

She knows _bad wolf_ and knows that an end is coming, but for what she does not know. River can beg with Time, but Time is relentless and will not submit to the mere will of a single woman, no matter what her reasons are. And so she will never measure up to the memory of Rose Tyler, but River Song will protect her husband for as long as she lives, because, even if he does not love her as he loved Rose, she loves him more than life itself and would die for him a thousand times over.

Something tells her she will.

* * *

_[A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes. I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind. -Florence + the Machine]_

The Doctor smiles at Emma and Dr. Palmer, grinning even more enthusiastically when he looks between Emma and Hila. He quickly diffuses their confusion over having met before by saying, "No, you can't have met, but she can be your great, great, great, great, great granddaughter. Yours too, of course," he adds to Dr. Palmer (quite possibly throwing the shy couple for a loop), "but you guessed that already, didn't you? Oh. Apparently not."

Palmer is still unaware of what the Doctor was really saying, determined to focus on the scientific physics instead of the emotional side of the situation-an area which, to be honest, is more of Emma's expertise than his own. "The paradoxes-"

"Resolve themselves," the Doctor interrupts, "by and large. That's why the psychic link was so powerful. Blood calling to blood, out of time. Not everything ends. Not love. Not always."

"Doctor," Palmer treads carefully. "What about...what about us? Emma and me."

"What about you?"

Palmer stammers, "Well, what's supposed to happen? What do we do now?"

The answer is so simple really. It's the Doctor's only advice that he actually follows, most of the time. With a smile, he answers, "Hold hands. That's what you're meant to do. Keep doing that and don't let go. That's the secret."

An unwelcome thought flips through his mind briefly; a thought of a time when holding hands wasn't enough, when simply a grip on a lever meant the difference between life and death... But then the thought is gone, and the Doctor returns to the present, but not before thinking of other things Clara had said, piecing the puzzle together.

_Doctor! I'm not happy._

_ Yeah, you need me to piggyback you across._

_ I'm not holding your hand._

And realization hits. He should have seen it sooner. "Oh, I'm so slow," he says, tapping his head with impatient fingertips. The explanation is practically exploding in his mind, bursting to be flung out into the conversation. "I am slow. I'm notorious for it. That's always been my problem. But-but I get there in the end. Oh yes."

"Doctor?" Clara seeks clarification (he files that away because he particularly enjoys name puns).

"How do sharks make babies?" asks the Doctor, his rhetoric seeming to be out of the blue when, really, he does have a coherent train of thought moving along the tracks of his mind. Perhaps he should take Clara to South Africa so that they can go shark diving in a cage. Though, of course, the Megalodon species on Antiqua is much more spectacular. And humans on Earth thought the Megalodon wasn't real-

"Carefully?"

"No, no, no," the Doctor shakes his head, returning to his actual conversation. "Happily!"

None of them really wants to have this conversation, especially with a God-knows-how-old alien who had probably only ever read the textbook about making babies. (Of course, none of them know the truth of his past. Then again, that was on Gallifrey, and everyone present right now was human, so they wouldn't need the looms.)

Clara looks at him strangely. "Sharks don't actually smile. They're just, well, they've got lots and lots of teeth. They're quite eat-y." The Doctor can't help but think that that was the sort of explanation his previous self would have given.

"Exactly! But birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it. Every lonely monster needs a companion." And isn't that the truth?

Clara is smart and her mind puts the pieces together fast. She looks up to the window, where the curtains shift. "There's two of them?"

The Doctor wraps his arm around her shoulders, turning her to face the house. "It's the oldest story in the universe, this one or any other." _(Pete's World)_ "Boy and girl fall in love," _(Leather and a pink jumper)_ "get separated by events. War, politics, accidents in time," _(A blank, white wall, the ghosts of her screams)_ "She's thrown out of the hex, or he's thrown into it. Since then, they've been yearning for each other across time and space, across dimensions." _(Planets fill the sky, a different woman with the same face, but it is still her)_ "This isn't a ghost story, it's a love story!"

A blonde crosses the forefront of his mind, but he pushes her aside. The Doctor realizes that he has his arm around Clara and apologizes, pushing her away slightly, thinking of another woman he wouldn't-shouldn't-have pushed away.

He runs back to Hila. They've got a couple to reunite. No one should be separated in two different universes. Besides, not everything ends. Not love. Not always.

* * *

_[Time stands still, beauty in all she is, I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. -Christina Perri]_

She watches as Madame Vastra, Jenny, and Strax brush themselves off after the white light fades. As expected, Strax makes a war-related comment, "It was an unprovoked and violent attack, but that's no excuse."

Madame Vastra rolls her eyes and looks to Strax after checking on her wife. "We're all restored. That's all that matters now."

The Doctor is angered, and River knows what he will and must not do. "We are not all restored."

She speaks out, but knows that he will not hear her. "You can't go in there. It's your own time stream, for God's sake."

"I have to get her back," he says to the others, as determined as ever. As determined as she hopes he was to save her like CAL. Her heart hurts because she will never be able to hold him or speak with him or dance with him again. He is her husband, but she is dead to him.

"Of course," she exclaims, "but not like this."

"But how?" Jenny asks, thinking along the same lines, but not arguing like River hopes she would.

"Is she still alive?" Vastra notes incredulously. River knows better, but the others couldn't possibly. "It killed Dr. Simeon."

He grins, but it seems vicious and set in stone. "Clara's got one advantage over the Great Intelligence."

"Which is?"

His grin widens and he looks pleased, prideful even. "Me."

River is reminded of his arrogance and hubris at the Byzantium. Even his words seem reminiscent of the Time of the Angels. Oh, what the Angels mean to her now. She tries not to think of her parents, because there are more important things at stake. "Doctor," she pleads, "please listen to me. At least hear me."

"Now, if I don't come back, and I might not-"

She shouts, "Doctor!"

"-go to the TARDIS. The fast return protocols should be on. She'll take you home, then shut herself down." It's a horrid plan, and River knows that he knows it too.

"There has to be another way," River forces. "Use the TARDIS, use something. Save her, yes, but for God's sake, be sensible!" She raises her arm to smack him, though she isn't sure what effect she'll have, but she is surprised when the Doctor grabs her wrist to stop him. His grip is forceful, like the Weeping Angel's in Manhattan. She looks into his eyes, and knows that he is _seeing_ her. "How are you even doing that? I'm not really here."

He is still upset, but he could hear her the whole time. "You are always here to me," he says, "and I always listen. And I can _always_ see you."

She is hurt by his words, but glad to know the truth. "Then why didn't you speak to me?"

"Because I thought it would hurt too much."

River sighs, "I believe I could have coped." He never did trust her with her own feelings. Damn him.

"No," the Doctor argues, "I thought it would hurt me. And I was right." And then his lips are on hers and it is simple and perfect, but full of love and passion and wants and dreams and _so much more_. But it is over too fast, and River feels his pain in her own stomach. He looks at her nervously, "Since nobody else in the room can see you, God knows how that looked." But then he is serious again, holding her close. "There is a time to live, and a time to sleep. You are an echo, River. Like Clara. Like all of us, in the end. My fault, I know, but you should have faded by now."

And it is then that she knows he _truly _loves her. It hurts, but she will not lie to the man she loves. "It's hard to leave when you haven't said goodbye."

"Then tell me, because I don't know. How do you say it?"

She smile coyly, trying to tell herself that it isn't over. "There's only one way I'd accept. If you _ever_ loved me, say it like you're going to come back."

He screws up his face as he steps back, before smiling widely and clapping his hands together. "Well, then. See you around, Professor River Song."

"Till the next time, Doctor."

"Don't wait up."

"Oh, there's one more thing."

His grin grows. "Isn't there always?"

She smiles at her husband, knowing her time is almost up. "I was mentally linked with Clara. If she's really dead, then how can I still be here?"

The mystery has perplexed him, and he is wrapped around her finger (but when hasn't he been?). "Okay, how?" he asks.

"Spoilers," she laughs. There is a pause, and then the last words she says: "Goodbye...sweetie."

The Doctor watches as his wife fades away for the last time, then steps into his own time stream as the world goes white.

* * *

_[God knows what is hiding in this world of little consequence, behind the tears, inside the lies, a thousand slowly dying sunsets. -Birdy]_

Clara is gone. She left of her own accord, to have her own adventures. After all, there were still one hundred and one places to see that the Doctor never took her. They never did much traveling on Earth, and she needed her own closure to her mother's death. They parted amicably, with the promise of a return on a Wednesday-the Doctor wasn't sure which Wednesday.

He isn't sure he ever will return for her. The impossible feelings he'd began to have for his impossible girl were entirely inappropriate. He was grateful for the year they spent together, but it is time to move on.

Once again, the Doctor is lonely, and he doesn't know what to do. He bumps around the universe for a year or so but even the TARDIS is growing lonely, and he gets rather tired of seeing alien landscapes. He longs for Gallifrey, and longs for Earth.

He always tries to avoid the late eighteenth, late nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries so he doesn't cross his own timeline more than necessary. He lands in forty-third century London, and tries to forget his abhorrence for alcohol as he enters a pub. He sits at the bar next to a young blonde thing wearing far too little clothing. Kindly, he offers her his jacket, but she takes it the wrong way, and he has to push her off him when she climbs onto his lap and begins to, well, wiggle.

He stands and leaves, suddenly remembering why he rarely comes to this era. Sexual promiscuity is more commonplace than ever, and it bothers him more than it probably should. Jack Harkness would love it here.

The Doctor sits on a park bench and stares up at the moon through the haze of smog and pollution. The rock is dim, and no stars are visible. It saddens him, but he enjoys the pain. He deserves it.

"Are you alright?" a young voice asks, and it is a girl no more than twenty-two with light brown hair and a plain face. Her clothes suggest a high place in society with strict rules of modesty and decency, but her posture reveals unhappiness with her life. She gives him a weird look after a few seconds, and the Doctor shakes his head once he realizes he was staring at her.

He nods enthusiastically, seeing the promise of adventure standing in front of him, and leaps to his feet in a stunning move that won him the silver at the 3118 Olympic Games. She flinches in shock and he is close to her. The girl stands her ground and looks up at him as he says, "I'm the Doctor. Would you like to travel with me?"

She narrows her eyes. "You don't even know my name. And what makes you think I would run away with a complete stranger?"

Looking her over once more, the Doctor smiles again. "Spoiled girl wanting more out of life, I know you'll come with me. So what is your name?"

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but the Doctor doesn't hear her. His ears are ringing of promises past and friends lost as his gaze catches a poster in the background. It looks like a poster for a performance in the park later in the week, but that is not what the text says.

It is impossible, and he doesn't know how it could happen, but the paper reads _bad wolf_ and his hearts are pounding. The Doctor's mind is racing and he knows that this is no message lost, no coincidence. This is really happening, but nothing seems amiss like it might have nearly half a millennium ago when he was still traveling with Donna Noble.

He says not another word to the girl but sprints off to the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him with a snap of his fingers, and the old girl knows adventure when she sees it. He hardly has to do anything to get them into the Vortex, though where they are headed, he has no idea. The TARDIS doesn't either, but it seems the right thing to do.

His hearts are soaring and his stomach is jumping with anticipation and anxiety. How is this possible? How could she have torn through the walls of the universe again?

But none of it matters, because Rose Tyler has come back, and he will do anything and everything to find her and give her the forever she promised him. He had seen the words before, but ignored them, yet this was so much different, so much stronger, so much better.

He spins around the console giddily, feeling uplifted and happier than he has been in so very long. The Doctor feels young and reckless and cannot wait to see his pink and yellow human. He hasn't realized how upset he still was from the loss of her after however many centuries, but it has taken a toll on him. She was the first and last face his tenth face saw. She would forever be seared onto his hearts, even if trapped in another universe.

Ringing, singing, flinging himself around the console, the Doctor is elated. This must be how Thoreau and Emerson felt upon discovering enlightenment. He makes a mental note to go back and ask them about it. But it could wait. Rose was, is, and always will be more important.

* * *

_[Don't look so sharp, don't judge so harsh, you don't know you're only spying. -Regina Spektor]_

Rose wanders the universe, discovering its beauty on her own, learning about herself. She doesn't know where she's going, doesn't know what she's doing, but she keeps on.

Gunshots hardly faze her, even less often hit her. It's not like she doesn't just get right back up with a recovery rate that Jack Harkness himself would be jealous of. One shot leaves her gasping on the ground for a few seconds before a faint golden light tingles at her side. She is perfectly fine.

A decade passes before Rose is brave enough to try and save people. It always ends up being a situation where she thinks _what would the Doctor do?_ Now she understands why he was always so sad.

It's a hard knock life, she muses.

There are days when not everyone lives. No nanogenes in a Chula warship come to save the day, no brilliant Doctor around to figure it out, no mother's love to protect the poor boy.

Rose kneels on the ground, struggling to remember the first aid Torchwood required her to learn. All she can think of is what the five stages of grief are. That's rubbish. But she tries anyway. Well, tries to calm the young man down. There's not much she can do for a gunshot to the chest. She could try to staunch the bleeding, but it would just make him more uncomfortable and send him into a panic.

"Hey, hey," she says, flipping little chunks of hair away from his forehead. He winces, but she doesn't get any gentler. She's a hardened soul now. "'s okay. 'S all gonna be okay."

"I'm...dying," he chokes, then coughs, gritting his teeth at the pain in his abdomen.

Rose furrows her brow, unable to think of a clever lie that will give him the peace of mind he needs to pass. She settles for, "Yeah. But it's gonna be okay. I'm here, an' I'm not gonna leave ya, okay? I'll be right 'ere."

"I'm Danny," the young man introduces, trying to make himself as normal as the situation will permit.

"Rose," she says in turn, taking his hand and chewing on her lip. _What would the Doctor do?_

He takes a shallow breath. "You're...really pretty."

She gives the best smile she can, tries not to think of the inevitable. He is clearly in pain, and Rose does what she has been told helps. She starts to hum an old Earth song, just like her mum would. It has been years since Rose has sung at all, but she tries her best.

It's over soon, and Rose leaves the pieces for someone else to pick up. She walks away without looking back, searching for a cheap way to get off-world until she can get her hands on a Vortex Manipulator.

When she does, time goes by much faster. No wonder Jack always claimed to be addicted to his. With the Time Vortex running through her mind, Rose tries to go places where she thinks the Doctor might be. So far it hasn't worked.

Whenever and wherever she lands, Rose feels like the Doctor has just turned a corner, is just out of sight. She hasn't found him yet, but it's just a matter of time. Occasionally, she comes across one of her 'Bad Wolf' messages from the past, but she doesn't know if it's a message long lost, or if she's started distributing the words again. Either way, maybe it'll help the Doctor find her.

He doesn't even know she's back in this universe. But he will.

* * *

_[Touch me and then turn away and put your hands into the flame. Tell me if you feel this pain cause I don't want to be a ball and chain, no. -Ellie Goulding]_

It's a nightmare, but one she can't help having.

_ Rose laughs loudly, knowing that the noise sounds like a lie. Her boyfriend tightens his grip on her wrist and she tries not to wince. The rest of the gang (not literally-she hopes, but these days she isn't too sure) doesn't seem to notice her falsity but rather thinks she is the devoted girlfriend of their fearless leader. She raises her cigarette to her lips and alternately sets down her pint._

_ Jimmy Stone seems to notice her aggravation and boredom, and he grows more possessive. She is able to read him easily because she loves him. He lets go of her wrist and brings the hand up to his guitar, strumming out some chords and singing along. Rose smiles-she loves the music he plays; it was the first thing she loved about him._

_ After the song is over, the entire group is more relaxed, and Jimmy takes Rose's hand again. With a smile on his face, Jimmy kisses Rose and then says, "Come on, babes, let's go back to my place."_

_ "_Our_ place," Rose corrects happily, her dismal mood from earlier vanishing. Jimmy wasn't quite used to verbally expressing the fact that they'd moved in together, even though they've been living together for a few weeks now. It caused a huge row between Rose and her mother, but she didn't care, all but cutting Jackie Tyler out of her life completely._

_ "Right," Jimmy says, standing and pulling Rose up with him. "See you la'er, then, mates."_

_ The others say their goodbyes and soon Rose and Jimmy are by themselves, walking towards _their_ flat. The sun has just set, leaving a tiring world winding down in sighing silence. Rose is exhausted, having been a work at the shop all day. She has to help pay for rent somehow, especially when Jimmy and his band are between gig cycles. They are the epitome of starving musicians (but not really because Rose provides with her minimum wage job)._

_ They turn a corner and nearly run into someone. Rose mumbles out an apology before seeing the young man-her childhood friend, Mickey Smith. He's on his way home from work at the garage. Jimmy sneers at him, and Mickey tries to act tough but doesn't really succeed without just looking awkward. Rose tries to avert her gaze and pull Jimmy along._

_ She looks back at Mickey when she thinks Jimmy isn't paying attention. He's stopped on the corner, watching Rose and her boyfriend walk off. Rose gives him a look she can't really describe, and Mickey frowns._

_ When they get to their flat, Rose and Jimmy are quick to kick off their shoes and turn to each other. It's amazing they've been able to make it this far. They are soon wrapped up in each other and Rose is pushed against the wall. Jimmy's kisses are exciting and she immediately wraps her legs around his waist. Supporting her bum, Jimmy carries Rose to the bedroom and sets her down as she pulls off his shirt._

_ Later, Rose is listening to Jimmy's snores and trying to fall asleep when she reflects on her life. This flat is really messy. She needs to clean after work tomorrow. Of course, Jimmy could do it during the day, but he'd be too busy at band practice if they were going to be recording soon. Rose loves loving Jimmy Stone, even if she gets a little bruised and sore, and doesn't always know where the next meal is coming from._

_ In the morning, Rose is walking around in a robe while Jimmy lays in bed. She pulls some jeans out of the basket and reminds herself to do laundry (because Mum always did it back home). She feels Jimmy's eyes on her and grins when her back is turned. He thinks she's _beautiful_._

_ "Might wanna lose some weight there, babes," Jimmy says and Rose's smile slips. "The chips might be gettin' to ya."_

_ He thinks she's a little large, but _beautiful_._

_ Rose bites her lip and picks up his pants from the floor, tossing them in the basket she'll take to the laundromat later. Getting dressed quickly so as not to miss the bus to work, Rose wonders what she'll get for dinner. She tries to cook sometimes, but she's lousy at it and Jimmy tells her so._

_ "I'll see you tonight," Rose says, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. Jimmy turns and raises his arm to hold Rose in place as he kisses her. She grins against his lips and pulls away as he tries to deepen the kiss. "I've got work. See ya."_

_ She nearly trips over his shoes on the way out, but Rose leaves._

_ Work is boring, especially since Shareen's on maternity leave, but Rose survives. She can't wait to get home to Jimmy. When she arrives at their flat, she finds it empty. One of the blankets is taken off the couch and the bedroom door is closed. There's an envelope taped to the telly. Growing unsettled, Rose tears the thing open and reads:_

_Sorry babes, but I don't think we're gonna work out. You're just one song, not a whole album._

_ Rose listens for her song on the radio, but Jimmy isn't good enough for fame. Neither is she, apparently._

When she wakes up, Rose almost wishes she could return to that part of her life, instead of this hell of a world where she has no friends, no family, no future except that of loneliness and chasing a goal which is probably impossible.

She cries for her mum and for the Doctor, and hates herself. Wishing she was dead, Rose hates that she can't even die properly.

She has no choice but to keep going.

* * *

_[Time stands still, beauty in all she is, I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. -Christina Perri]_

It was only a matter of time before she ran into a friend of the Doctor's. Rose stands facing the large monitor with her head tilted to the side. She's not looking for anywhere in particular, just looking to go, to find him.

"Can I help you?" asks a voice from behind her.

Rose turns and looks the woman over. She's tall, physically older than Rose (but not really), with loads of blonde hair. Dressed in a white spacesuit, she looks about ready to leap into a shuttle and take off. "Oh, I'm-" Rose tries to piece together her words. This woman has thrown her for a loop; the threads of time are weaving together. This woman has met the Doctor.

Rose blinks a few times before shaking her head minutely. "'M not really sure."

The woman stares at her, her eyes studious. Realization crossed her face, her eyes widening as she immediately reached out for Rose's hands. Rose flinched-it had been so long since anyone wanted to touch her, longer since she wanted anyone to. "Oh my God." She is clearly in awe, and Rose doesn't know why. Her frantic, unfocused searching of the timelines is giving her no answers whatsoever. "It's you. You're Rose Tyler."

Rose closes off, winces and steps back, pulling her hands out of the woman's grip. "How do you know that? Who are you?"

"My name is River Song. I'm...well, I know the Doctor."

That name rang bells in Rose's head. The metacrisis Doctor had told her stories about adventures he'd had. One story in particular stuck out right now, about Professor River Song, the Library, and her death. Before she could stop herself, Rose was whispering, "Count the shadows."

"Hmm?" asks River. Rose shakes it off, and the other woman says, "I'm an archaeologist. Right now I work with the Felman Lux Corporation on their expedition to the Library."

"Yes," Rose says, and that easily catches River's attention.

Having a time traveler as a husband makes for an interesting lifestyle, but River is not used to having outsiders know her from the future. "Did we meet in the future?" she asks with a coy smile.

Rose shakes her head, her mind jumping to a part of the story that she had forgotten about until now. With the entirety of time and space running through her head, she was bound to forget a few details here and there. Sadly, this was one of the more important ones. "Someone who was very close to me told me."

"Ah," River says. She looks Rose over again. "You're so young. He's going to love that. Have you met him yet? I suppose not, or you wouldn't look so sad."

"But...he has told you about me?"

River smiles, but it seems forced, like she knows something she wishes she didn't. "He tells me everything," she shrugs, hating the only man she could ever love for loving someone else. "Do you understand the nature of my relationship with the Doctor." She doesn't mean for it to seem catty and 'my horse is bigger than your horse', but it does, and the hurt is written on Rose's face.

She sounds defeated when she says, "You're his wife."

"He may have married me," River says, her heart breaking as she says it (she'll have to go visit her mother after this expedition so they can talk-but then she remembers that she _can't_ see her mother), "but he loved you."

It's the first time that the L-word has come up in conversation regarding Rose and the Doctor, excluding the metacrisis, who was much more open about that word. That takes a stab at Rose's heart, and she pushes away her memories of her human Doctor.

A pretty woman with her hair in a high ponytail on the side of her head daintily runs over. "Professor, Mr. Lux wishes me to remind you that...that we're-uh-"

"I'll be right over, Miss Evangelista," River says. "I just need to say goodbye to my friend here." The brunette jogs away, and Rose looks after fondly. Miss Evangelista reminds Rose of herself before she started traveling with the Doctor-not entirely intelligent, more of just a pretty face than anything else.

Rose tries to smile at River. "I don't want you to be late."

River smiles back. "I won't be. Mr. Lux won't leave me, he just likes to think he's in charge." The two women giggle, and smile genuinely. It's too bad that River will die, Rose thinks, because the two would probably get along famously, if not for the whole 'jealousy over the Doctor' thing. "It was nice meeting you, Rose."

"And you, River."

The woman with curly hair starts to walk away, but pauses and turns back. "Give him my love. And for God's sake, make him finish that sentence."

* * *

_[But do not ask the price I pay, I must live with my quiet rage, tame the ghosts in my head that run wild and wish me dead. -Mumford and Sons]_

Three years of constant searching yield no immediate results except for madness and unhappiness. He stumbles across a helpful young woman from late twenty-first century Canada. Not having to worry about London for a while is nice, and traveling with Michelle is even nicer.

She's tan, with long dark hair, blue eyes, and has a propensity for accidents. Seriously. He spends most of his time rescuing her, which would be incredibly frustrating and get old really fast if he didn't feel like a superhero every time he did so.

They run through the dark streets of Toronto, hand in hand, ducking around corners and into alleyways. Screams litter the city, smoke fills the air, sirens blare but the emergency vehicles are unable to move. Finally, they arrive at Michelle's family's home, but the worst has already happened.

Bodies litter the blood-stained carpet. Man lying on woman in a last move of failed protection, two teenage girls and a small boy are disfigured almost beyond recognition, a few missing limbs scattered around. The Doctor's ears are ringing, he's only vaguely registering Michelle's screams.

When he returns to reality, the Doctor is forced to _literally_ drag Michelle out of the home. She collapses against him, incapable of holding herself up. He lets her sink to the wet grass as he fumbles for the sonic, going through the settings until he finds the correct one.

Michelle begins to hyperventilate when she sees her childhood home go up in flames.

He is nearly out of mercy for any species from any time who threatens this planet which he has come to love. If only the Time Lords could see him now. Surely they would respect him. Perhaps they would fear him. Now it makes sense to him why the Daleks call him the Predator, the Oncoming Storm.

The Doctor keeps Michelle moving through the burning city, keeping out of the light and out of the way of any of the creatures which plague the city. It won't take long before the entire planet is in danger, if it isn't already.

Toronto is burning, like Gallifrey. He hopes that the TARDIS has moved herself out of harm's way. This city might perish, but the Doctor won't be able to function without his beloved ship.

When dawn breaks, the Doctor and Michelle are hiding in an abandoned home. Michelle sleeps on a sofa with broken springs while the Doctor uses his screwdriver to locate the TARDIS. Hopefully she'll come soon. He can't figure out what this monster is without her.

_Rose would know_.

He curses himself for even thinking that. If she really was in this universe, he would have found her by now. She is gone, and he is a fool for thinking otherwise. As if the universe were taunting him, the Doctor flicks open the curtains to see _BAD WOLF _spray painted on a car on the street.

The Doctor is in such a terrible place, the only thing he can think of to describe that is _bitch_. He never in his entire life would have thought he hated Rose Tyler. He loathed her, abhorred her, wished he had never met her.

He senses Michelle's eyes on his back. "What are you thinking about?"

It takes him a while before he can think of a proper, coherent response that won't come out as harsh and hateful. The best he can do is, "Someone I once knew."

Michelle moves to stand next to him. Her hand slips in his, the fingers of her free hand scratching at the stitches on the drapes. He wishes she wouldn't speak, but Michelle is full of spunk and rebellion and a bit of a smart ass (her terms). "What happened to her?"

Oh, she's good.

Why does he always pick the ones who are marvelous at reading him to be his friends? "I don't know," he says, and it's the truth.

Michelle nods slowly. "Tell me about her."

In all honesty, it's the last thing the Doctor wants to do. He wants to find the TARDIS, wants to leave this godforsaken planet, wants to suffer so that he can actually feel something, possibly regenerate ten times so that he doesn't know who he is anymore. This bow tie, while still cool, is growing a bit full of memories. It signifies a place in his mind where a pond is more than a single body of water, the only water in the forest is a river, and a soufflé was just a soufflé.

"Please," Michelle begs, her voice breaking slightly. "I don't want to think about them."

She means her family, and despite all the pain it will cause him, the Doctor doesn't want to fight her. His hearts are always breaking, always broken, and wallowing in his sadness won't hurt any more than it already does. So for her, he will be brave and will face his past.

In a paradoxical way, looking out the window and seeing _BAD WOLF _gives him the strength he needs. Maybe he doesn't hate Rose Tyler. Maybe he just hates what she's become to him, how much he needs her. A light smile lights up his face. "She was magnificent."

And it's true. Come hell or high water (which, in all honesty, is not entirely unlikely eventually), he will find Rose Tyler and finish that sentence.

A cog turns in his mind, and things start to come together. The smile grows bigger, and he presses the button of his sonic screwdriver. That wonderful _vworp_-ingsound is heard behind them, and he turns. His sexy blue box is materializing right in the room, as if she knew what he was going through, knew what he needed to figure out on his own.

The Doctor offers his hand to Michelle, his eyes twinkling once more. "I know what's wrong. We can stop it, but we're going to need help. How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?"

She smiles and takes his hand, swinging their arms. "What are they like?"

"Well," he stalls while he tries to decide if he should tell her the truth about them, "they're the dream team. We go way back. I hope you aren't afraid of lizards, potatoes, and maids."

They run into the TARDIS, and the Doctor flings them into the Vortex. He knows what's wrong, and he has to stop it. Rose can wait for one more adventure. Especially since he's never faced this before. Not really.

_Zombies_.


	3. Part III

**Here's the final installment. Thank you for all the love! I greatly appreciate it. If you've never left a review before, but have enjoyed this, please let me know what you think! I love writing things like this, so any feedback will be appreciated.**

**And I've got a few projects in mind, so keep on the lookout for those.**

**Thank you, and enjoy!**

* * *

Everything has an end, even sentences.

* * *

_[Now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I? -Birdy]_

Early morning light peeks through the hastily closed blinds behind her, gold hitting the cream walls. That yellow color makes her sick. These sheets are scratchy, the room is freezing. How the hell did she get to this point in her life?

A lazy arm over her side hinders her escape. Damn him. She thinks she's going to be sick. Her head is killing her, and it's (probably) not from the exorbitant amount of alcohol she consumed the night before. She is sore, unable to decide if that's good, bad, or just plain sad. Probably a little bit of each.

The man behind her sighs, hot air hitting the back of her neck. His lips press to her shoulder blades and Rose cringes. This is not what she meant to do last night. She used to be so good at handling alcohol. Everything _has_ changed. Too many drinks, a nice bloke talking to her...how could Rose resist?

She slides out of the bed, dragging the duvet with her. Rose wraps it around her as best she can, and the man in the bed looks at her like she's a piece of meat. Oh, _God_, what has she done? This sort of thing was expected with Shireen, or even with her mum-that stabbed at Rose's heart-but never with her.

Rose Tyler had only ever slept with three men (well, now four). Damn it, she was an idiot.

Her clothes are scattered on the floor, and Rose just wants to get out of there, but at the same time, she doesn't want to give the man-with-no-name any more of a show than he might have already gotten. (An unfortunate side effect of having all of time and space running through her head, Rose remembers _everything_ that happened the previous night.) She turns her back to him, slides on her knickers, then drops the blanket so she can put on her bra.

In her absent-minded hurry to leave, Rose didn't hear the man get of bed and sneak up behind her. Hot arms slide around her waist. Rose shrugs him off, but he doesn't get the hint. Before she can stop him, his lips are on hers. Just as suddenly, her knee moves. Rose pulls on her jumper as the man doubles over, clutching his crotch.

Once fully dressed, Rose grabs her bag from the ground and sprints down the stairs. She doesn't lose it until she was four blocks away. Rose sits on a bench and holds her face with her hands. She feels disgusting. How could she do something like that?

_So many species, so little time_.

The words of her first Doctor make sense to her now. Rose wipes tears from under her eyes. Maybe she could find Jack. Surely he was out here in the universe somewhere. He was one bloke she wouldn't mind dancing with.

Of course, not even Jack Harkness could be on the same level as the Doctor.

Rose hangs her head, swinging her hands between her knees. What was she doing? Without a transport, without a device to manipulate time, without a weapon, she was nothing. What had she gotten herself into?

Closing her eyes, Rose tries to piece together a weak image of what could possibly a timeline for her to follow. What she sees surprised her. Her eyes flicker open, frantically studying the grass while her mind works through the information she had just been given. Rose had seen her fingers tingling gold, then (as an out-of-body experience) disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Was this possible? Of course, with the power of Bad Wolf, anything was possible. She could destroy or create anything she wished. How had she not seen this sooner? There was no need for her to go around on the slow path, waiting for the Doctor to arrive on this planet at this time out of an endless amount of planets and time periods.

She could travel herself.

Feeling rejuvenated and full of new hope, Rose quickly takes to her feet. This is the most exciting news she's had in the several years she's been back in this universe. She will find the Doctor, on her own terms, in her own time.

And if she has anything to do with it, she will find him soon.

Rose can't keep the smile off her face (the first to reach to her eyes since she left Pete's World, maybe even the first _real_ smile since she was left there the first time) as she flexes her fingers, closes her eyes, and concentrates.

If anyone had been watching her, they would have thought they were going crazy. Just like she thought she could, Rose disappears.

* * *

_[You have suffered enough and warred with yourself, it's time that you've won. -Glen Hansard]_

It is a beautiful day, the first that the Doctor has seen in a long time. Walking hand in hand with Michelle, they are in Toronto on the day that the zombies first attack. Just like Harry and Hermione in the third _Harry Potter_ book, they are careful to avoid places where their past selves might see their current selves. Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey shit, there.

There is only one way to be sure that the zombie epidemic would not spread across the globe, and that was to destroy Patient Zero. The hard part was that neither the Doctor or Michelle knew the identity of Patient Zero. With the help of Madame Vastra, Jenny, and Strax, the Doctor was able to put together a genetic extrapolation locator device. All they needed was some DNA of a zombie to enter into the machine, which would give them a reading of Patient Zero.

He is briefly reminded of Prisoner Zero, but shoves off the thoughts to a part of his mind that he will deal with in a few decades or so. On a mission, there is no time for reflection and self-pity and _feelings_. Oh, how Sherlock Holmes of him.

Michelle's fingers are shaking, so he gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. It's a hard thought, knowing that your family is out there dying and there's nothing you can do. He knows from experience, probably better than anyone else. At least Toronto wasn't in a Time Lock.

They had been traveling together for nearly three months. The Doctor and Michelle knew each other well enough, but he knew from every woman he'd ever known, regardless of species or era, that giving her false hope would be detrimental to her mental stability, whether his plan worked or not. So he didn't tell her that if everything went according to plan, her family need not die on this day.

Would she stay with him anyway?

She gives him a half smile, flickering between nervousness and apprehension. "So where exactly are we going?"

He points at a building a few blocks ahead of them. "That's the closest university science department. If I'm right, and I most always am, Patient Zero will be in that building."

"How can you be sure?"

These opportunities are surprisingly rare for him nowadays, so he can't help but be cocky. "Because I'm clever."

She laughs, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. Michelle drops her head against his shoulder; he remembers a time so long ago (two entire lives), when another young woman did the same thing, but under much different circumstances. Smiling, he thinks of the big hug he's going to give Rose when he sees her. As long as there's no pesky Dalek-

The Doctor is bowled over in the street, falling on top of Michelle in an effort to keep her body safe. Humans don't have spare regeneration energy they can call upon to heal wounds quickly. She pulls out her gun (which she really shouldn't have) and shoots their attacker in the brain.

The zombie falls to the ground, and the Doctor immediately turns on Michelle. "Now others will know we're here!"

"Take the damn sample!" she shouts.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor says, clutching his forearm as he struggles to keep from being affected by the bite. He quickly sticks the syringe in the dead zombie's shoulder, filling it with its blood before jamming it back into the genetic extrapolation locator device. Passing it off to Michelle, the Doctor focuses on healing himself. It shouldn't be too hard, but not the easiest thing he's done all day.

Golden light begins to seep from his arm, music ringing in his ears. In only a few seconds, his wound is healed; he is clean. (But really, he should have known that regeneration energy would attract some attention.)

Michelle tosses the beeping device back at him before emptying her clip in the heads of several zombies who have quickly made their way to the pair. It surprises the Doctor how good of a shot she is; something he would have expected more from an American than a Canadian. Well, to each their own.

He skims the results and takes off toward the science building. Michelle follows immediately, turning her head about to find the zombies and shoot them before they can attack. For her to be traveling with an alien, zombies seem to be a pretty normal monster. At least she'd read books about the zombie apocalypse in high school. (It was a bit of a fad.)

They are on the steps of the university building, when the Doctor suddenly stops in his tracks. At first, he thought he was mistaken. Surely it was his imagination- But there it is again.

"Doctor!"

He turns on his heel, not caring that he pushed Michelle into the banister. A voice he hadn't heard in a century or so-a voice he never thought he would hear again-was calling his name.

"Doctor!"

It takes him a few seconds to locate her, but she's running down the street, a flimsy backpack hanging off her shoulder, beating into her hip where he's sure there will be a bruise. Her hair is long and miraculously blonde, a bit ragged from all the running. He doesn't know how she got here, but it doesn't matter.

He didn't realize he had taken steps toward her, but then she's in front of him. Just for old time's sake, he grabs her hand and whispers, "Run!"

Her hand still fits perfectly in his, but he tries not to get distracted while they're running for their lives from the undead. Michelle looks at him quizzically as they run past, so he quickly says, "Rose, Michelle. Michelle, Rose."

"Nice to meet you," Michelle shouts.

Rose doesn't sound winded at all when she responds, "You too!"

An unfortunate side effect of zombie evolution: they react faster and learn to keep up with their food. Translation: they're growing faster. Michelle shoots her pistol at them, and gold energy tingles at Rose's fingers.

Like a sleeping limb, Rose senses the budding energy and recognizes what will happen. But she's just found the Doctor again; what if he doesn't like her anymore? What if Bad Wolf frightens him?

Rose knows that she loves him, and so she will protect him every day of her possibly never-ending life. If he has a problem with that, he can go regenerate without her help.

She slips her hand out of his, immediately spinning around and throwing out her arms. "Duck!" she screams, and Michelle drops to the ground. Rose's eyes burn gold, and the monsters beyond them all begin to shimmer.

"What are you doing?" shouts the Doctor, but Rose can't hear him over the sound of Bad Wolf in her ears. She hears singing with a golden timbre that not even every composer combined could challenge. "Rose!"

Her voice rings with power when she snaps, "I am the Bad Wolf. Don't you forget, my Doctor."

The Doctor and Michelle stare on in shock as the golden light engulfs the zombies, dissolving them into atoms. To the Doctor, it feels as if he were on Satellite Five once again, like no time had passed at all. How was Rose Tyler still alive?

She doesn't even collapse this time. The Doctor walks up to her, placing a gentle hand on her arm, wordlessly asking if she was alright. Her eyes, familiar brown once again, meet his. She studies his face, running her gaze over his cheekbones, his chin, his nose.

"You've regenerated," she says plainly. He nods. "You've got a bit of a chin there." Another nod. "And you wear a bow tie." This moment is pivotal, because for Rose Tyler, he would do anything, including lose the bow tie. "I like it. It's," she pauses to think, "cool."

Tears fall down their faces as the Doctor pulls Rose into a rib-crushing hug that rivals every hug they've ever had. She is as close to him as they could possibly get. His nose is buried in her hair, her face against his chest, breathing in the scent that can only be described as ancient and beautiful-the smell of _Time_.

His hands clutch at her shirt, lifting her off the ground. Rose's fingers scratch on tweed, trying to prove that he was real, that this was no dream. "I thought I would never see you again," he whispers.

"My Doctor," Rose returns, not wanting to be away from him ever again. Not even the Void could keep these two apart.

Michelle eventually returns home to her family, alive and well. She and the Doctor part amicably, much like he and Martha Jones, only Michelle never fancied the Doctor. He was a bit too grandfatherly for her liking.

Only an hour after being reunited, Rose and the Doctor walk slowly to the TARDIS, hands intertwined. When the blue police box stands in front of them, Rose can't possibly be happier. After years of wandering the universe, she's _home_. Because for Rose Tyler, home could never be anywhere else other than the Doctor's TARDIS.

He moves to unlock the door, but she beats him to it with the key she always kept on a chain around her neck. Even though the ship's exterior has changed, Rose's key still fits. She suspects that it always will.

No words are exchanged as Rose takes in the new new console room. The TARDIS herself fills Rose in on all the details, about how it went from being coral to orange and metal, and now this futuristic blue and silver design. The lights brighten slightly-like a smile-when Rose assures the ship that she does, indeed, like it. Their telepathic conversation goes on for a bit before the Doctor coughs gently, reminding the ladies that they are not alone, and he missed Rose just as much, if not more.

Rose's eyes flick to meet the Doctor's, and she can't help but fill with mirth; he looks _so_ glad to see her. This is true joy, she knows. When she dreamed of this moment so long ago, she never pictured such silence between them. She had thought of hugging, crying, shouting, laughing, but not this. It's tense and full and she can't think of any other ways to describe it.

Her stomach is in knots, she feels like she's going to suffocate or be sick or faint, or possibly all three. They just stare at each other for what feels like eternity. Of course, in a time machine that's really another dimension, eternity is relative. Her breathing quickens, fingers twitch. She's _nervous_. What will he say? What will happen now?

For starters, he says nothing. She doesn't either.

They stare and stare and stare until Rose thinks she's going to explode. Her pulse rushes, her heart pounds. Her fingertips shake, she instinctively chews on her lip, because this is the most human she's felt in a very long time. It's almost _normal_.

And then the second hand moves, and the moment is gone.

In only a few steps, they are apart no more. The tension that was spread between them like a rope is taut no more, snapped with their resolve. Every word that was never said is put into these motions, bringing them as close as possible so that they don't ruin what reunion they've had. So much time apart was painful for both. The time for that has past.

The Doctor's arms are wrapped around Rose as tightly as possible, while she scrambles to get her fingers around his face, tracing this new Doctor's features. Her palms are against his cheeks, and his hands come to hers as well. The Doctor's thumbs trace her cheekbones while his eyes flicker between hers. He never wants this moment to end.

Butterflies fill Rose's stomach, and things have never been so perfect. His face draws closer to hers, and her eyes flicker shut. The Doctor brings his lips to meet hers, and it is the moment that the entire universe has waited for.

A proper kiss between the Doctor and Rose Tyler-no goddess interfering, no possessive flap of skin in her place, the real Doctor and the real Rose Tyler.

Several long seconds pass, but Rose still needs to breathe, even if she won't die from it. He rests his forehead against hers, and as her eyes shut, he lightly presses kisses to her nose, eyelids, cheeks, forehead. Rose smiles up at him, her eyes full of tears.

"I've waited so long for you," she says, her voice shaky.

He doesn't even have anything to say, still weighted with guilt from the past-their past. He holds her close, enjoying the way her head is pressed against the double beating of his chest. That's where she belongs, close to his hearts. "They keep trying to tear us apart," he says softly.

Rose looks up at him and smiles. "But they never ever will."

* * *

_[Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness, too, so I stayed in the darkness with you. -Florence + the Machine]_

They sit in the library, staring out the floor to ceiling window into space. Well, not really, but the TARDIS is kind, and shows them what they want to see. The Doctor's arm is around Rose's shoulders, and she is tucked up against his chest. They've only been together for thirty-six hours, but they've not been separate since. Neither took a step into a bedroom, not wanting to sort out all the domestics yet.

Rose understands peace, leaning against the Doctor's chest and listening to his hearts beat a pattern that, she comes to realize, has been flickering away in her soul for quite some time. The sentence is still incomplete, but that doesn't matter to her. Not anymore. Sometimes, it is enough just to _know_.

They are together, and since she couldn't even have that for so long, anything else is a frivolous privilege.

She stares at the stars, and knows from the relaxed, even breathing that the Doctor is asleep. It's strange; she never saw either of her first two Doctors sleep, only the human Doctor in Pete's World. He looks so young. But after a while, she knows he's awake, but the Doctor doesn't want to move, as he is unable to truly believe that Rose Tyler is really there.

"Doctor?" she eventually asks, smiling at the low rumble of a response she can feel in his chest, hears as a hum. Rose shifts so that her chest is pressed to his, so she can see his face. Even with floppy hair and a big chin, he is beautiful. "How old are you?"

He doesn't answer at first, and Rose thinks it's because he doesn't know. She is right, confirmed when he says, "Well over a thousand, I should think. Time passes differently in here, but you know that. Even before I met you so long ago, I didn't really know my age. This is my eleventh body, longest life I've had in a while." She sighs, and he runs his fingers slowly through her hair. "You don't look a day over twenty."

"'s because I'm not," Rose says, and it's the response he was afraid of. "Not physically, that is. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I've lived a very long time, and I haven' aged a bit. I mean, my hair grows and everythin' else functions like a human does, but I don't age. I dunno how old I am either, but I've been twenty for a long time. Since the Game Station, I think."

They are silent, but, like always, she knows what he is thinking. "It isn't your fault, Doctor. I made my choice, and it's brought me back to you. I had a good life in Pete's World, but I didn't fit in. After the human Doctor died, I just knew I couldn't stay. There wasn't any point."

"Rose-"

"It was a crack in the wall. He went close to it, and the light touched him. He was erased from history, but I still remembered him. Me, an' Mum, an' Pete, even Tony. Anyone who knew you, who had traveled here, they all remembered 'im."

Comprehension dawns on the Doctor's face. The crack from Amelia's bedroom wall was what took the human Doctor metacrisis from Rose. She made him better, and now she would make _him_ better. He was so old, has seen and lost so much, he needed Rose Tyler again.

"I ran into a friend of yours a year or so ago," Rose says. His interest is peaked, raised eyebrows indicating attention and want for a continued thought. "She was on her way to the Library. The other Doctor told me about her, it just slipped my mind. River Song, he said. The Doctor's wife."

"Did you and he-"

"No," she answers, a little too quickly. He is taken aback, possibly hurt, so Rose amends, "We never married or had kids. I don't think he could ever be that domestic. I mean, we-well, we did our fair share of dancing" (he tries not to blush or cringe) "but never anythin' serious."

"Oh, Rose," the Doctor breathes, tracing her hairline. "That was his biggest mistake."

She tries to crack a smile. "You got more domestic than he did. Married an' everythin'."

His expression falters, and Rose knows that she didn't know the whole story. There was so much that happened after he left her in Norway for the second time. So he launches into his story. She already knew about the Library, so he tells her about everything that happened after she left.

He tells her about Adelaide Brooks, about the Master, about the Time Lords. He relives the pain of regeneration, having someone to hold his hand this time (just like before), shares his journey to fish fingers and custard. Rose rolls her eyes when he tells her about some of the stupid things he said, and laughs in all the right places. She swats his arm with an open hand when he mentions being twelve years (and then another two) late.

Rose would have liked Amy and Rory. The story goes on and on, eventually leading to the Pandorica and Big Bang II, about Rory's deaths, and River's mystery. She acts genuinely shocked when he reveals River's parentage, though he is sure that is not new news to her. Eventually he reaches the impromptu wedding and his death.

He tears up and she cries when he describes Manhattan. She knows the horror of the Weeping Angels, and to lose his friends to them is terrible. Rose tells him she would love to meet Vastra, Jenny, and Strax, and agrees that they should stop by Clara's.

When she asks about Sarah Jane, he cries again.

His story eventually wraps up, and it is her turn. She gives the short version of her time in Pete's World, knowing that he will always be uncomfortable with the dancing aspect of a relationship.

It's during her story about River that she slows down to take time. "She knew who I was immediately. She said you talked about me."

He nods. "It's hard not to when you're such a special person." Rose blushes, but he ignores that. "I did love River, but not as much as she loved me. She was-well, she was no _you_."

Rose smiles, her heart swelling with pride. He doesn't want her to leave, doesn't wish she'd never returned. "She told me that it was alright, that she knew. And...she seemed supportive, even."

"That's River," he says. "She would even want to know the details. You know, if we danced." Rose lowered her eyes, completely thrown and embarrassed that he would bring that up. "That is, if you want-"

"I'm not saying I'm not-"

"We don't have-"

"I just-"

"Whatever feels-"

She shuts him up by kissing him, an effective means of silence. He smiles at her when she pulls away, and she returns the gesture. "Let's just take this one step at a time."

"Okay."

This might not be moving too slow, really, but Rose feels like the conversation has made a right turn, and the question has been burning her mind for years and years. How was that sentence going to end?

"Doctor," she says, suddenly very self-aware and shy.

He senses it, and traces his fingers down her arm until he reaches her hand, then laces their hands together. Still a perfect fit. They probably would be in every body he would ever have, had ever had, if they went to test it. "You don't need to be shy, Rose. You can ask me anything. I will tell you anything you want, answer any question, I promise."

Rose thinks she's about to chicken out, but is afraid of what he might say if she does, what she will think of herself. It takes bravery, and she's hardly courageous. They had all of the time in the universe, why did she have to ask this question now? _Because it was burning away in her soul_. If she didn't ask for an answer soon, she thinks Bad Wolf might take a bite out of her.

He waits patiently, though Rose can tell he's nearly jumping out of his skin with anticipation. They both know what's on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to escape if not for her nerves and doubt. The Doctor gives her hand a squeeze, tilts her chin up to look at him.

That makes the nerves worse, but it's now or never. If she doesn't ask soon, Rose fears she never will. Finally, she summons up every ounce of courage she can muster (more than she ever needed or would need facing an army of Daleks _and_ Cybermen), and begins. "That day, on Bad Wolf Bay, the first time...that sentence." She takes a big breath, and tries to calm her heartbeat and breathing. Why was this so difficult. "How was it going to end?"

The Doctor's lips spread into a smile. He places his hands on her cheeks, and she covers them with her own, feeling a grin come to her lips. This is finally it. He doesn't seem nervous at all, which is most likely a facade, but a good one at that.

"I said Rose Tyler..." He pauses, and Rose thinks she's going to cry if he makes her keep waiting. She's waited an entire lifetime; she needs this. The Doctor's nerves flicker in his eyes, but then he finds his strength. "Rose Tyler, I love you."

She grins, and tears fall anyway. "I love you,too," she says, "My Doctor."

They kiss, and it suddenly grows deeper than before. They part for a few seconds, but there's no going back. The sentence is complete, what's done is done. Nothing can tear these two apart, not even two universes. Rose would keep fighting to get back to her Doctor, and his stubbornness for her happiness would no longer be a barrier between them. She was no longer human, able to give him the forever she promised, and promised again and again.

He doesn't seem to quite know what to do with his arms, but it's okay, because they eventually settle down. Rose places a hand on his chest, the other drifting in his hair. He is surprisingly good at using his tongue in this body, which is somewhat surprising to Rose based on the ungainliness of the rest of him. But it's still the Doctor, and he's magnificent.

A long time passes before the Doctor shifts Rose into his lap. Out of nowhere, he scoops her up into his arms, and she gasps in surprise. Rose clings onto his neck, determined not to fall. She bursts out laughing. "Where are we going?"

"Bedroom," he says, his voice deeper than before. The Doctor's a lot stronger than he looks, but Rose has always suspected that. She raises her eyebrows, because he hasn't really answered her question. "_Our_ bedroom, if you want."

Rose smiles against his lips. He takes that as a yes, and begins to move in that direction. The TARDIS is helpful and shifts the rooms around so that he doesn't have far to maneuver. (It is rather difficult to see whilst ones tongue is down another's throat.)

But they make it in one piece, and begin the dance that was a long time coming. The Doctor and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS, as it should be.

* * *

_[The world was built for two, only worth living if somebody is loving you. Well baby, now you do. -Lana Del Ray]_


End file.
